


Let Me Count The Ways

by shopfront



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Getting Together, Mission Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: Just another day, another mission, and another night spent sharing a room. Until it isn’t.





	Let Me Count The Ways

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



> Title isn't mine, but is a line from Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
> 
> Thank you to G and A for the betas!

“We have eighty one point three hours before we expect the USS Discovery to be back within communication range,” Michael said as she made final adjustments to a piece of survey equipment. “I suggest we make more efficient use of that time by splitting up.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Sylvia said, laughing. Michael raised an eyebrow, and the rest of their away team turned to look at Sylvia in confusion. “That was a joke. I know she’s not- It’s an old Earth- Oh, never mind. Commander, um, should we maybe start to pack up the camp?”

Michael’s lips twitched, but her expression remained serene. “No. Ensigns Renaxaw and Lwohoh are to remain here with Lieutenant Phillips. Lieutenant, continue to explore the nearby area and monitor the equipment, but don’t venture too far into unknown territory. We should maintain an easily located base until the Discovery returns. Ensign Tilly and myself will explore the valley to the east and investigate these new readings. With any luck we will remain in communicator range, but if this new phenomenon interferes with our equipment as expected we will return to base camp within forty eight hours.”

“But, Sir,” Lieutenant Phillips said hurriedly, dashing forward a few feet towards Michael and then halting suddenly.

Michael turned and regarded him curiously. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

The officer coughed and shuffled his feet for a moment, before seeming to gather his courage. “One of the security officers should accompany-,” he started to say stridently, and then faltered a little at Michael’s patient but unchanging expression. “-You. Maybe. I mean, it is protocol and it’s better to be safe than sorry?”

Sylvia laughed again but quickly turned it into a cough. Michael tilted her head slightly as she gave Sylvia a pointed look, before addressing the Lieutenant. “I believe Ensign Tilly is trying to say that a security escort won’t be necessary.”

“Right,” Sylvia said, shrugging expansively as she began to load things into her pack. “I mean, after Klingons and, um, other things, I’m sure we’ll be just fine on this previously surveyed planet with its very few dangerous lifeforms and-”

“Your concern is noted, Lieutenant,” Michael interrupted, her voice just loud enough to drown Sylvia’s out as she copied Sylvia and began to pack up. “If you would prefer, we will remain in radio contact with you every hour until we make camp.”

Sylvia widened her eyes incredulously at Michael from behind the abashed Lieutenant’s back as she hoisted up her gear and swung it onto her back. Michael pressed her lips together to hold back a smile as she did the same, and then gave the rest of the team one last look.

“If there’s nothing else?” she asked, and then nodded when no further protests came. “Very well. We will speak with you in an hour and see you in two days.”

*

“I cannot believe he got a field promotion to a higher rank than me,” Sylvia was saying as they ducked branches and carefully cut their way through the undergrowth. “We might have gone through the Academy together, but I am most certainly not _that_ green. There’s no way I should be an Ensign and he should already be a Lieutenant when he’s that nervous about literally everything.”

“His first posting saw more direct combat than we did on the Discovery,” Michael said. She paused to frown at a particularly tangled patch of vine blocking their path, before turning away to search for a way around it. “There were also the six months of the war which we weren't present for, when any security officer would have been likely to gain significant experience in the field.”

Sylvia sighed heavily. “Alright, sure. But still, I’m just saying. That man is jumpier than Saru on an enemy planet,” she said, and then crowed when Michael chuckled reluctantly. “I knew it! You agree with me!”

“Our mission parameters include giving our junior officers further experience in peaceful, exploratory environments,” Michael said as she made a few judicious hacks to a different stretch of vines and then slipped through the gap. “ _All_ the junior officers,” she continued pointedly, as she reached back through the vines to offer Sylvia a guiding hand.

Sylvia just huffed as she emerged on the other side, batting furiously at her hair which kept catching on the vegetation despite being tied tightly back into a bun.

“Perhaps we should consider making camp soon,” Michael said, watching her struggle with amusement. “The vegetation here is becoming thick enough to block much of the light, and it will be difficult to set up our tents in the dark.”

Still fussing with her hair, Sylvia snorted. “Tents? In what clearing, exactly?” she asked, giving up her hair for a lost cause as she pulled out her tricorder. After examining it for a long moment, she made a triumphant sound and shoved the device at Michael. “Anyway, we’re almost at the entrance to the valley. See? We should at least try to get a look at it before the sunlight goes, so we can plan for tomorrow. Maybe there’ll be a clearing there.”

There wasn’t. As Michael and Sylvia finally struggled out of the jungle near the mouth of the valley, it quickly became apparent that the tricorder readings weren’t all that accurate. As they stood and stared, Michael’s comm badge beeped twice - its hourly reminder to contact base camp.

“Burnham to Phillips,” Michael said distractedly, as she tapped at her badge. Still staring, it took her a moment to realise there was no response. Frowning, she tapped the badge harder. “Burnham to Phillips, do you read me?"

When there was still no response, Michael sighed and turned back to the vista before them.

"We have encountered the communications issues you predicted."

“Yeah,” Sylvia said, equally distracted as she shifted her gaze between her tricorder and the view. “I think it’s something to do with that. It’s giving off some sort of distortion field,” she said, making a sweeping gesture towards where the ground dipped sharply down, widening out into descending ridges of rock that glittered in the fading light.

It had turned out to be less of a valley, and more of canyon. More distracting than the beauty of the canyon, however, were the creatures climbing the ridges that descended below them - or rather, hovering in the air just above the surface of them. Gathered into clusters of creatures that came together and broke apart over and over, creatures of varying sizes and shapes ducked and weaved as they moved from ridge to ridge.

“I think- I think they’re _eating_ the rock,” Sylvia said. "Oh look, that one looks like a dog - but with wings! Oh, and that one, it's some sort of giant wingless beetle. All the others have wings, I wonder how that one's flying. It looks like a shuttle with slime, gross."

Michael raised both of her eyebrows and began to walk forward once more. “Perhaps the reflectiveness is not due to the nature of the rock, but something that grows upon it,” she said thoughtfully as she looked closer at the nearest ridge. “And the resemblance to Earth canines is minimal.”

Sylvia just made another awed noise as she stumbled after Michael, nearly tripping over herself in her distraction as she craned her head to see further down. Michael caught her by the elbow, pulling her back so sharply that Sylvia yelped.

“We should be careful. If this substance can distort our communications, it will likely also thwart any attempts to use the Discovery’s transporters or send medical assistance when the ship returns,” Michael said sternly. Sylvia just muttered something inarticulate in reply, still examining the readings.

“You should see this, Michael. I haven’t seen anything so complex since Lieutenant Commander Stamets first showed me the mycelium forest chamber. It’s just lighting up all over the place and-”

“Mhmm,” Michael replied, amused, as she adjusted her grip on Sylvia’s elbow and started to lead her away. “I do believe I saw space over here where we could pitch a tent.”

“Right, right, sure, it’s just, these _readings_. Oh my god,” Sylvia continued as she allowed herself to be lead.

*

“Yeah, we really can’t fit two tents here,” Sylvia said flatly once they reached the small clearing Michael had noticed. Not that it was much of a clearing; more of a convenient but brief break in the vegetation.

“We are used to sharing a room,” Michael pointed out, already unpacking her own tent.

“Well, yeah, but that’s a _room_. With, you know, actual room in it. These aren’t even meant to be two person tents so it’s only going to work if we, like, _really_ squish in together.”

Michael paused, and then resumed her unpacking. “There's not enough daylight for us to continue searching for another place to sleep, nor any guarantee that we would find a bigger clearing. This is the most logical place to camp. However, we could set up a rainproof canopy and sleep on the ground if you prefer.”

“Like, out in the open? Oh no, no no no. Not with all those flying creepy crawlies just over there, no siree,” Sylvia said with a grimace, finally moving to help with the set up. “They are fascinating and I cannot wait to get up close and personal with them, but it should definitely happen tomorrow. Not while we’re sleeping. Besides, they might be more dangerous than we think or something... squishing it is! It’s just that I don’t want to disturb you when you’re trying to sleep and-”

“Tilly,” Michael said firmly with a fond smile as they worked together to secure the last corner of the tent to the ground. “It’s fine. Really.”

Once they had finished with the tent and gulped down some field rations for dinner, Sylvia fiddled some more with her tricorder before turning to the rest of her gear. “Gosh, I’m not sure what those animals are doing but they’re not slowing down one bit just because it’s night time,” Sylvia said. She bit her lip as she unrolled her sleep mat, shooting a sideways glance at Michael from under her lashes. Then, suddenly, she straightened her back and nodded to herself as she undid her bun and dragged her fingers through the curls, wincing.

“Do you need assistance?” Michael asked, rising from her seat.

“Oh, no. No, I don’t- I mean, maybe. I think something’s caught in it. But look, you know what? I’m just going to say it. I’m worried that I’m going to keep you awake all night,” Sylvia said, still tugging at her hair as she started to pace. “I know we’re used to sharing a room and all, but I’m going to be all up in your space and it’s going to be so much closer than usual and-“

“Your allergies,” Michael said. She watched Sylvia walk back and forth a few times and then moved to deal with her own sleep mat, lips twitching.

“Right, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that sometimes I toss a bit in my sleep, too. And talk, I also talk in my sleep and you totally don’t do either of those things. I’ve definitely noticed that about you. Sorry, is that a weird thing to have noticed?” Sylvia replied rapid-fire as she pulled a face. “It’s just that you’re always, like, so very still, and I’m not. And when I get self-conscious, I like my space, but… I don’t know. I’m just worried,” she continued, finally stumbling to a halt and taking a deep breath.

“I understand,” Michael said. Her voice caught for a moment before she continued, her fingers clutched tight around the edges of her sleep mat. “Perhaps you should take the tent and I can set up a canopy for myself?”

“Oh god, that’s not what I want either,” Sylvia said, drawing a hand over her eyes. “It’s just, I’m a mess. There’s twigs stuck in my hair and I’m going to snore and probably roll on top of you and it’s going to be embarrassing and awful.”

“I don’t think that's likely. But I suggest that we go to sleep and see what happens. Tilly, you know that I…,” Michael said, hesitating once more. “I enjoy your company.”

“I enjoy your company, too,” Sylvia said, brightening.

Michael opened her mouth, and then shook her head and closed it again. “Shall we?” she asked, inclining her head towards the really very small tent, and with a grimace Sylvia nodded and began to wrestle her sleeping mat in through the entrance flap. It took squeezing their belongings together like a very stubborn jigsaw puzzle, but eventually they had themselves and everything they needed to sleep comfortably shoved inside the tent and the entrance fastened shut.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad,” Sylvia said doubtfully as she curled up on her side. The sounds of the jungle could still be heard, though more faintly, through the fabric of the tent, and the light from their small lamp cast strange and amusing shadows across the walls. Her tricorder was beeping faintly but rhythmically at their feet as it recorded the movements of the creatures by the cliff. The noise was strangely soothing, and Sylvia could already feel her eyes starting to droop after all the exertion. “Michael?”

“Yes, Tilly?” Michael replied softly as she curled up on her side as well, facing Sylvia.

“When you said you enjoy my company…,” Sylvia said, trailing off and biting her lip. Michael just raised her eyebrows and waited patiently. “It’s just- I could totally be reading too much into it, and now is probably the absolute wrong time to be asking when we’re stuck together in this tiny tent. But, um. It’s only, you said you enjoy my company. Is that like: you’re a tolerable roommate sort of enjoy; or like: you _enjoy_ my company?”

Sylvia swallowed hard as she finished speaking and felt more than saw Michael tense up next to her.

“You totally don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. What was I thinking, now is definitely the worst possible time, I’m such an idiot. Just ignore me-“

“Tilly,” Michael said over the top of her. When Sylvia stopped babbling and looked over, she found Michael gazing back at her. The corners of Michael’s eyes were crinkled, her gaze soft, and she reached out a hand to lay against Sylvia’s where Sylvia was clenching and unclenching her fist in the fabric of her thermal blanket.

Sylvia nodded once, twice, then cocked her head. “So is that a yes or a no?”

“Neither,” Michael said. Sylvia nodding again and then opened her mouth, but Michael continued talking before she could ask another question. “I just- I would prefer to discuss this another time. When we both have a little more… space,” she said.

Sylvia’s face fell, but Michael tightened her grip on Sylvia’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Eyes widening, Sylvia looked from their hands to Michael and back again. “Wait, is that…? Are you…? Or should I say, are we-”

“I’m human, Tilly,” Michael said with a chuckle. “Not Vulcan. If I wanted to-“

“I know, I know! Oh gosh, I really should just stop talking and go to sleep, huh,” Sylvia replied, her mouth twisting self-deprecatingly.

Michael waited a beat to make sure Sylvia really was done speaking, then she took a deep breath. “If I wanted to kiss you, I’d do this,” she said. Then she leant across and closed the distance between their mouths with a soft press of lips on lips. She only lingered for a moment, and ducked her head as she pulled away.

“Oh,” Sylvia said softly, raising her free hand to touch her fingers to her lower lip. “I wasn’t being an idiot, then.”

Michael exhaled sharply, almost but not quite a chuckle. “No. Now we should get some sleep.”

“Sleep now, talk later, got it,” Sylvia said, her fingers still lingering near her mouth as she watched Michael curl back up. “Sharing a tent seems a little less scary now, at least. Now I just have to get through counting down, what, seventy two or seventy three hours?”

Michael shot her a surprised look. “Seventy point eight, to be precise.”

“Right,” Sylvia said, a smile spreading across her face as she dropped her hand back onto the sleep mats, letting it land close but not too close to Michael’s. When Michael shifted so that their fingers brushed each other, her smile widened. “That’s not so bad. Just seventy hours until we can...  _talk_ about it again.”

“Point eight," Michael corrected as she reached up to flick off the small lamp and plunge them into darkness, but her voice was soft. "But no, not bad at all."


End file.
